Gentle Fist
by Lithos Maitreya
Summary: Part Three of the DarkeSword's ReMixes Project, inspired by the ReMix 'Gentle Fist'. Meta Knight has always viewed himself as the greatest warrior of all. Link begs to differ. Set at the very beginning of Brawl.


**A/N: This one was hard. I wond up barely meeting my 1,000 word quota, but I made it. Part Three of DarkeSword's ReMixes, this one's in the friendship genre. Enjoy, and you might want to listen to the song as you read.**

**Disclainer: I don't own SSB, Gentle Fist (the ReMix), or Home, Sweet Home (the song).**

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><p><strong>DarkeSword's ReMixes Project<strong>

_Piece Three: Gentle Fist_

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><p>Meta Knight stared at the Sandbag in front of him with a powerful sort of concentrated intensity. It was not quite a glare, because a glare precludes strong emotion, while all that was behind his eyes in this was an immensely directed focus. He'd been standing just such for almost a full five minutes when, without any warning, Galaxia was in his hand and he was slashing in a furious flurry of blade.<p>

The onslaught on the sorry punching bag lasted only moments before he darted back to his original position, and once again stared, with the same almost bestial focus at the training dummy.

This was his daily training routine – come by when no one was around and beat the living daylights out of a Sandbag. It wasn't quite as good as a Brawl for keeping his skills honed, but it sufficed when he didn't have any fights scheduled. Once more he darted forward and attacked, and again he darted back.

"You know," a tenor, masculine voice with a slight cynical edge spoke from behind him, "There are many cultures which say it's immoral to enter combat with those weaker than you."

Meta Knight turned slowly to meet Link's blue eyes with his yellow ones, his wings melting into his less frightening robe. "Then it seems I must leave the Tournaments if I wish to appease said cultures, as I must necessarily battle those weaker than myself in each fight."

Meta Knight had only recently joined the Super Smash Brotherhood with the beginning of the Brawl Tournaments. He somewhat resented it, too. Not because he did not relish the chance to prove his skill, but because the Hands had – quite plainly – placed him on an equal plane with all of the other Smashers. How many of them, after all, could say that they'd lived for almost a thousand years, and been fighting for their lives nearly all that time? How many of them had been through all he had, gone through death and back, for his world? How many of them had been as patient as he had, waiting in the court of his own enemies, waiting for salvation to arrive? How many of them had plotted so cleanly, so coolly, the way to their final victory?

None of them. How could they? Link in particular. He was only eighteen! How dare they place him on the same level as this child who played the part of Hero in a children's charade?

"There are many other races," Link continued, a slight grin creeping across his Hylian features, "That call arrogance a sin."

"Arrogance involves my inability to fulfill my statements," said the Star Warrior flatly. "I stand by my statement."

"As you say," said the Hero of Time with a slight smirk. Within moments the Master Sword was in his left hand and the Hylian Shield was on his right. "Then let's put your abilities to the test!"

Meta Knight's cape opened into wings once more, and Galaxia came out again, quick as a flash. "Very well."

And the two swordsmen threw themselves at each other. Galaxia's golden metal met the Master Sword's luminous blue steel with a ringing clang. Meta Knight's eyes widened for a moment before he darted away, just as he had with the Sandbag. His speed had always been greatest, but Link, it seemed, could match it.

The Hero's cyan eyes were feral – bestial even - as they looked into Meta Knight's glowing gold ones. "Well?" he asked tauntingly. "Aren't we going to begin?"

The Puffballs eyes flared in anger as he assaulted Link once more. No matter how fast he struck, though, the Blade of Evil's Bane met every stroke. Across the X formed by the two swords, Meta Knight watched as Link's grin only widened.

The Dream-Lander darted back once more, but this time Link followed him in. Meta Knight wasn't ready for the sudden onslaught of slashes and stabs that almost immediately came his way. He was able to block them – barely. He was unable to prevent it as he was pushed back one step… two… three… four… then five…

He was backed up to the wall faster than he would have believed possible. Link was beating away at his sword, and he was barely managing to avoid and/or block the whirlwind of strikes. It was only a matter of small time, though…

Small time indeed. Only moments after the thought had come to him Link performed a complex twisting strike which knocked Galaxia right out of his hand. Then he swung the Master Sword aroundand placed the point right in front of the visor-slot if his helm – his weakest point.

"Dead," said the Hero of Time, grinning at the humbled Puffball. "You see, Meta Knight? We are all warriors here."

Meta Knight met Link's blue eyed gaze for a moment, and then his eyes lowered. "Yes. I… apologize. I have been arrogant and overconfident. I understand now."

The Hylian grinned and sheathed his weapons. After a moment, Meta Knight did the same. "We all start something like that," said Link, his smile never fading. "But we learn."

He held out a hand. After a moment, Meta Knight took it, and they shook. In that moment, the Star Warrior knew that he and the Hero of Time were, irreversibly, friends. And he wouldn't change that for all the world.

"Come on," said Link suddenly. "Let's go introduce you to the others. So far, you've been the resident hermit. I think it's time to change that."

"I suppose I have," said the Puffball. "Arrogance again, I expect. Off we go."

And, in companionable silence, they did. None of the other Smashers knew quite what had transpired between the two that day, All that was known was that, from that day on, Link and Meta Knight were the best of friends, and that Meta Knight had stopped looking down on all the other Smashers and had begun to realize that they were all, in fact, equals.

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><p><strong>AN: There you go. Review, please!**


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